Hydrangeas: Gateway To A Life Of Crime
I have a confession to make. Although my job is to write about ingenious ways people commit murder and mayhem, when it comes to obsessing about how I’d commit the perfect crime, it always ends up with hydrangeas.
Yes, hydrangeas. To be more specific, hydrangea smuggling. Because before I went to Japan, I never dreamed that the humble fluffballs flanking granny’s porch could come in so many colors. Or so many shapes. Or be so…lustworthy.
But because bringing anything even remotely resembling a plant into California is punishable by green-coated beagle outing before you even clear baggage claim, this led to a sorry situation in which an NSA scan of my search history might reveal pages devoted to drug-sniffing-dog-proof containers (too small), how to grow an entire plant from a single leaf using massive quantities of growth hormone (too iffy for people who haven’t managed to keep a houseplant alive EVER), whether bridal bouquets might get a pass from soft-hearted customs officials (don’t count on it) and so forth.
Still haven’t cracked it. So until I do, I’m just going to have to content myself with collecting photos of them. Which I’m going to share with you, so we can room together in prison.
Read a novel set in Tokyo…